


candy cigarettes

by ToxicPineapple



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Bruh i'm straight up not vibing rn, Conversations, Gen, It's okay though, Love Across The Universe: Dangan Salmon Team, Lowercase, Overstimulation But Not In A Sexual Sense, Sensory Overload, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22892284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: god, this sucks. kokichi has a fucking headache.and no one’s noticing, either. not that that would bother him ordinarily. in fact he’s usually, like, trying to hide his emotions? so he’s not sure where the sudden twist in his stomach is coming from. they probably wouldn’t say anything even if they knew. he like, radiates hostility or whatever. on purpose for sure. it still sucks though.should he be trying to match their energy level? maybe if he started yelling with everyone else, his headache would go away.---everyone is so fucking loud.(ryoma's eye is not to be underestimated.)
Relationships: Hoshi Ryoma & Ouma Kokichi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 116





	candy cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

> vent time bois but i'm okay
> 
> it's more like my energy level isn't vibing with other people's and also i'm experiencing writer's block so my emotions rn are a muddy mess of meh
> 
> anyway >:3

god, kokichi’s friends are so easily excitable.

it takes one word from him to get miu squealing, himiko shouting indignantly, kiibo going off on some rant about robophobia. and like, splendid. they’re hilarious. but boy it sticks out like a sore thumb.

  
(kokichi’s never liked that metaphor, it’s super dumb? a sore thumb only sticks out to its owner. that’s not very noticeable at all to the majority. a lot of metaphors are like that, though. drawing comparisons that don’t make any sense. it’s weird how people don’t even question those things, they just shrug it off, and if they do question them they keep it to themselves. never verbalise their questions. maybe the world would be better if people were less fucking polite.)

tenko and kaito are both on their feet right now, yelling across the table. their typical arguments. men. women. whatever. both of them hide behind sexism. kokichi drags his spoon through his broth, watches them with almost glazed eyes. they’re so loud. tenko seems like she’s gearing up to reach out and grab kaito by his shirt collar. he’d probably deserve it. or maybe he wouldn’t. kokichi hasn’t been listening.

he notices miu’s gaze on him, though. brows raised, blue eyes darting rapidly between him and the scene. probably wants him to make fun of them.

“i can’t decide which one of them needs the sedative more desperately,” he tries. ugh, nasty and unoriginal. mean, too. miu is already laughing, though. she’s probably gonna say something else, some other mean spirited joke. maybe she’ll call tenko a dyke again. that fucking sucks. of course, kokichi’s called her any number of nasty names in the past, so maybe he can’t really talk.

besides, this is like, what they  _ do.  _ him and miu. they talk shit about their friends. it’s funny most times. kokichi just feels kinda weird right now. he’ll snap out of it later.

miu engages kaede in some kind of boob-related shriek fest. another unoriginal thing, but that’s just miu’s way of dealing with the fact that she wants kaede to hold her hand. kokichi looks away. kaede is nice but she’s loud too. and her voice is clear and pleasant but pitchy, like, it rolls up and down and up and down and it’s so  _ grating.  _ miu’s is like nails on a chalkboard, though. she squeals at the tiniest infraction.

across the hall, shuichi and kirumi appear to be listening to korekiyo talk about something. at least he’s quiet most of the time. he’s having to raise his voice a little bit to be heard over all the din, though. pity. kokichi bets what he’s talking about is interesting. it usually is, interesting. too bad kiyo hates him.

wooow, where’d the self pity come from? psshaw. kokichi shakes his head. the noise is getting to him. can’t they all shut the hell up?

the volume isn’t usually a problem, though. kokichi grips the side of the table with one of his hands. knuckles whitening, edges digging into his palm. painful but stabilising, he supposes. he’s usually just as loud as the rest of them. kiibo and tsumugi are chattering happily about embroidery right now, but it would be so easy to egg kiibo on into some self-righteous rant about social justice. insulting tsumugi’s anime would get her going too. he can press the buttons of anyone here, actually. maki and kiyo are easy. shuichi takes a little more time but he snaps eventually. rantaro and kirumi are outliers and shouldn’t be counted, but eh. they’re not here right now.

(they wouldn’t be loud if they were, anyway, so, why do they matter?)   
  


god, this sucks. kokichi has a fucking headache.

and no one’s noticing, either. not that that would bother him ordinarily. in fact he’s usually, like, trying to hide his emotions? so he’s not sure where the sudden twist in his stomach is coming from. they probably wouldn’t say anything even if they knew. he like, radiates hostility or whatever. on purpose for sure. it still sucks though.

should he be trying to match their energy level? maybe if he started yelling with everyone else, his headache would go away. at the very least he’d feel less fucking weird about this. when you get absorbed into the chaos, it ceases to bother you. or if it still bothers you, it’s deep down inside of your heart. kokichi’s pretty damn good at ignoring the voices in there.

he lifts his head, unsticking his hand from the table and preparing some kind of robophobic insult (he doesn’t care, anything’ll do, just something mean that kiibo definitely doesn’t deserve) but then an elbow nudges him in the side, and kokichi jolts.

_ god? _

it’s not god. it’s not even angie, but ryoma. his eyes are black and swirly. kokichi can read them for sure but it’s a different genre of reading than the rest of his classmates. ryoma is… weird, he supposes.

“c’mon,” ryoma gestures towards the door with his chin. kokichi finds himself raising his eyebrows. the action feels weak. “walk with me outside.”

ryoma doesn’t wait for him to say anything. he just turns and walks towards the door, the one that leads into the courtyard, and kokichi stares after him for a long moment before hopping off the bench, slipping past all the crowded noisiness and through the door when ryoma opens it.

the courtyard is usually really loud with the exisals doing all that plant removal, but they’re not here right now. all kokichi can hear is a gentle breeze, running through the leaves overhead. it’s so warm and quiet out that he almost longs for the cacophony again; or at least a birdsong.

they walk in silence regardless.

then ryoma says, “like mint, kid?”

scoffing, kokichi replies, “no, i have taste, y’know?” the corner of ryoma’s mouth twitches in what might be an amused smile. when he holds out his open, half empty box of candy cigarettes, kokichi accepts one. the minty dark chocolate melts on his tongue. he usually prefers milk chocolate. but the mint makes it good.

more silence. the all-encompassing, stifling type. like staying under the blankets when you have a fever. kokichi takes the half-eaten cig out of his mouth and rubs the end between two fingers so that the chocolate melts. his fingerprints are dark brown now. streaked with a greyish green.

ryoma’s the empathetic type, so that’s probably why they’re out here. he’s perceptive in that way. quietly so, though. kokichi forgets how much he notices sometimes.

“i didn’t take you for the easily overstimulated type,” ryoma remarks offhandedly.

kokichi recalls running from the police, a storm brewing overhead and icy droplets of rain piercing his skin like tiny little toothpicks. the soles of his feet aching. thunder clapping. hiding in a filthy alleyway, behind a muddy dumpster. all those smells. the sound of the sirens. the heavy dread in his chest at the thought of not seeing his friends again. they didn’t find him and when the danger was gone bile burned in the back of his throat.

he doesn’t comment. “stupid thing to say,” ryoma mutters. he tips his hat down over his eyes. edgy habit. kokichi wishes he had one of his own. “they’re so rowdy. don’t even notice me slipping off half the time.” his lips quirk again, that half-smile thing that he gaze before. “was just heading out when i noticed you sitting there.”

“hmm.” kokichi swings his hands at his side but pauses before his chocolatey fingers can stain his white pants. shoves the remaining cigarette into his mouth and sucks his fingers clean. it’s not hygienic, but like, whatever. ryoma’s indifference is abundant. “maybe i was just pretending to get you to notice me and invite me out,” he suggests, more out of obligation than desire. his words are seran wrapped and artificial. shiny but obligated. the sky is the colour of princess eyes.

“heh, maybe. wouldn’t put it past ya,” ryoma shrugs, as though this doesn’t bother him. “but i don’t think you’ve noticed me slipping out in the past, stuck in the middle of things as you are all the time.”

and there’s… a good deal of truth to what ryoma is saying, because frankly kokichi hardly notices ryoma’s absences until they are pointed out to him. this isn’t the first time the noise has been overwhelming. but usually kokichi deals with his problems by making them worse and blaming them on other people. it’s how he wins.

kokichi doesn’t know what to say. ryoma meanwhile doesn’t seem to have anything else  _ to  _ say. they’ve reached a stalemate where there was no competition in the first place. the silence isn’t tense necessarily but it’s stale. it hangs heavy and putrid above them.

and kokichi doesn’t mind it so much, frankly. he’s always been kind of a fan of silences.

they reach the dormitories anyhow. ryoma stops before entering, looks up at the door and then shrugs. “think i’ll head to the library,” he says. “get some rest, eh?”

he passes over his box of candy cigarettes. kokichi takes one out, but before he can return the box to ryoma’s hands, he’s halfway across the courtyard. hands tucked into the pockets of his leather jacket.

the box rattles a bit when he shakes it. kokichi usually powers through candy, eats the whole thing in one sitting.

(he returns the cigarette that he removed a moment ago and the box finds a home on his nightstand. mint is a good flavour for overstimulation.)

**Author's Note:**

> people who text a LOT in all caps really take me off my guard man i'm so tired rn
> 
> nothing good to say here. ryoma is cool.


End file.
